


Silent Hill x Reader

by chiralismdoll



Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: Angst, Crushes, Friendship, Gender-neutral Reader, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:55:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29681517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiralismdoll/pseuds/chiralismdoll
Summary: Basically I’ll do requests for any of the Silent Hill characters. NSFW or SFW is fine. Side characters are encouraged too but I’m not tagging all them bitches... monsters are okay too! And pyramid head... is on thin ice....... I hate him outside of silent hill 2 so much <3Please I am begging you to request.Chapter 1 is my list of things I accept and will not accept!
Relationships: Alex Shepherd/Reader, Harry Mason/Reader, Heather Mason/Reader, Henry Townshend/Reader, James Sunderland/Reader, Murphy Pendleton/Reader, Travis Grady/Reader
Comments: 22
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

Howdy there, I hope you’re doing well. I haven’t done requests for anything in a while and I need a hobby outside of work other than scrolling on tumblr for hours and I want to get back into writing easier, sooo. Here I am! I just miss the Silent Hill characters, god...

What I will NOT write-  
-pedophilia  
-rape  
-beastiality  
-abuse  
-pregnancy  
-blood and gore  
-death  
-self-harm or suicide  
-scat  
-vore  
-and just any really weird kinks in general. You know what I’m talking about.

What I WILL write-  
-NSFW  
-SFW obviously lol  
-romance  
-platonic  
-ummm pretty much anything not pertaining to what I’ve listed for my no-go’s!

If I need to add more things on to these lists, I will. I just can’t think of anything else right now lmfao.

Also I’m not here to write canon x canon, or canon x oc. It’s strictly canon x reader ^_^ because you are awesome and your favs love you <3

(reader will be gender neutral unless otherwise specified by requester.)

Anyway pls request...


	2. Honey Eater (SFW Comforting James when he’s vulnerable)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Rakaka!!! Thank you for the request!! <3 I hope you like this! I’m not so good at fluff but I hope I got it at least somewhat decent toward the end! And you right, James deserves all the love in the world <3

When James opens the door for you, you’re immediately met with a vacant stare, a void swirling within his jade eyes that makes you freeze in what you think is shock. From the phone call you received form him earlier, you knew something was wrong, but you never would have thought it would be so bad, judging by the pure hopelessness on his face. James Sunderland is not a very expressive man, and the raw emotion emanating from him is almost overwhelming. Something is definitely wrong.

“May I come in?” You ask gently, frowning in concern.

He says nothing as he opens the door wider, a gesture for you to come in. There’s a heaviness in the air that’s almost oppressive. Once you enter his home, he gently closes the front door and walks past you to the living room, where he sits down in his recliner in front of the TV. There’s static playing on its small screen, and the image of James slumped down in the chair with the glow of grey casting dim light upon him is almost unsettling.

“James...?” You whisper. For a moment, you hesitate.

He doesn’t bother looking up when he hears you step near him. And when he feels your hand rest on his shoulder, he turns his head to hide the pained expression upon his face.

“James, that call I received... what’s the matter? Is there something you need to tell me?”

His mouth opens, then closes. And when he turns back to look at you, there is indescribable pain etched in his features.

“I’m not alright. I need help....”

You stay silent to usher more out of him. There’s an ache deep within your chest.

“Those nightmares I had...” he trails off. He grows silent then, and so do you, because you’re not sure you want to risk scaring him off by breaking the silence.

As James’ closest friend, you’ve been confided in plenty of times by the quiet, older man. The most prominent confessions he’s made to you were a plethora of disturbing dreams that he’s described to you in pure, realistic detail. All of them relayed to you bit by bit as time passed. Horrifying images that you’d never want to experience for yourself... And it was strange. Often, you thought about how eerie it was how they all fit together as if it were one giant story. You’ve never heard of such a thing, of many dreams coming to someone in small parts, continuously. And yet when you’ve tried to research such a phenomenon, nothing has ever come up.

Finally, you grow bold.

“Yes? Did you have another? What happened in this one?”

You peer below and see his hands grip at his pants. 

“....Eal...”

“Huh?”

He mumbles something. You take a moment to think it over.

“James, honey... I can’t hear you...”

He sighs deeply.

“I said, they were real. All of it. They were all real. The monsters, the puzzles, the rotting town.” He swallows deeply, “... Mary’s death. All of it. Every single thing.”

He senses you freeze up next to him. And he scoffs to himself, knowing the disbelief you must harbor.

“I sound crazy... I already know that... but what I experienced was... I could never make that up. Even if I was crazy.” He turns to you, then. And then he quickly stands up, towering over you, making you back up instinctively. A flash of regret crosses his features at your sudden fear, and he reaches out to you, voice quivering in a way you’ve never heard from him before.

“Don’t run away, please! I can’t lose you too! I just can’t... I can’t be alone anymore... I can’t be by myself with my thoughts, I need someone, anyone, to help me! Please, help me...”

When his bottom lip trembles, he hangs his head and drops to his knees, burying his face in his hands while sobs wrack through his body. Then, you’re kneeling beside him in an instant, scooping him up into your arms as you cradle him against you, pressing his head against your chest. As soon as he’s swept up into your loving embrace, he falls apart, hugging you for dear life while he cries solemnly into you. Your heart aches terribly.

“My god. I had no idea... I can’t imagine...” you whisper against his hair, petting it gently. All the images you created in your head while hearing those experiences comes back, and with each image flashing through your mind, you cringe deeply. Descriptions of those monsters, of the brutality, the terror... it brings on a whole new meaning to James’ suffering. If it’s all true, then James surely is a courageous man for being here today.

The feeling of your warmth is so unbelievably nice. So kind and safe and inviting. He could stay there forever, basking in the serenity you radiate. But... does he deserve it? Especially when he told you he... put Mary out of her misery?

And then, it seems like you’re reading his thoughts with what you say next.

“I’m sure wherever Mary is, she’d be proud of you staying strong even today...”

His eyes open wide at that. And suddenly, he’s crying harder than ever.

So you stay with him, holding him through his tears. And he wants to tell you how thankful he is for you, how relieved he is that you haven’t looked at him with disgust, or pushed him away, or left his house and his life forever. Because you understand him. Because you’re the only person who’s truly there for him. But he can’t find the right words to convey his gratitude, and his love for you. Maybe when he’s done, when he’s ready. He silently promises he’ll use his words to say such a thing eventually. But for now, he doesn’t have to say any of this out loud, because you already know. He doesn’t have to say it.

Eventually, he gets quieter, and quieter before falling into almost silent sniffles. Feeling your thumbs wipe away his tears, he closes his eyes.

“James?” You whisper. He tilts his head up to look at you and almost looks like a child. When you peer into his eyes, he blinks almost sheepishly.

“I’m here for you.” You coo to him. “Really. You didn’t deserve to suffer like that. And you still don’t. I hope you won’t hate yourself for all the things that happened to you. To go through all of that and still be standing here even today... that takes a lot of courage. I’m proud of you.” You brush some of his bangs out of his eyes in a tender touch. “You’re loved. I’ll always appreciate you, and be here for you. If-if you’ll have me by your side, of course...” you mentally curse yourself for blushing, suddenly. This isn’t the time to be getting all bashful...

But he laughs quietly in your hold, making you smile.

“Thank you... so much. Of course I want you here with me. Always.” He lays back against your chest, sighing when he feels you rubbing his back.

‘I love you...’ he thinks.

He could probably take a nap in your arms right now. But that’s fine with you, as you move to let him lay his head in your lap, watching as he slowly drifts to sleep. And when he wakes up, he thinks, he’ll definitely tell you how he feels.


	3. Dear You (SFW Henry x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you’re standing before Henry, he can’t believe his eyes. His childhood best friend, right in front of him. Who died years ago. It can’t be real, right?
> 
> Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by ShepardN7! I’m sorry this took me so long but I was trying to work on the pacing! I didn’t want to rush but I really hope I made the pacing right, please enjoy this. I’m not so good at angst... Also please protect Henry I love him so much ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> Can be read as romantic or platonic <3

The last thing Henry would ever expect to see in this hellish world is standing just feet away from him, smiling at him brightly in relief to see an old friend again. In shock, words are lost in his mouth as you approach him quickly before you’re flinging yourself onto him, arms wrapped around his neck while a feminine giggle rings through the air. He stumbles backward a bit, steadying the two of you with a simple grasp of your waist, and he can’t quite focus on the words you’re saying to him while his mind almost crashes before you.

His dear best friend. Right in front of him.

“-n’t believe you’re here, I was so scared all by myself, and now I have you again, god, Henry, it’s been months since I’ve seen you in person! I’ve missed you terribly!” You cry, and the only thing that brings him back into reality, whatever that is anymore, is your tender hug and your warmth caressing him gently. When you bury your face into his neck, his arms instinctively move to properly hug you. His grasp is tight, but not crushing. He’s trembling almost unbearably.

“(Y/n)...?” he whispers in disbelief, amber eyes wide in shock. “But... but I thought you were...”

Dead. Died from a car crash. Six years ago.

“Out of state? Yeah, I was, till I ended up here. I woke up with no recollection of how I got here.” You pull away to look up at him, and he almost pulls you back into him, too afraid to let you go again. A hallucination? Your hair is bright like it was back then. You’re wearing your favorite pastel blue sweater. You smell just like your favorite perfume…“Last I recall, I was getting ready in the morning before heading to the university, and I was almost out the door when, well... I guess I blacked out. And now I’m here. In... is this purgatory or something? Or a nightmare? But it’s too realistic, huh?” You look at him hopefully, and his heart aches at your bright eyes. Eyes he hasn’t looked into in so long...

No way. No way... this isn’t real...

He holds a hand to his head while he steadies himself. Dizziness is almost overwhelming.

“Woah. Are you okay?” You wave a hand in front of his face and he blinks.

“Yes. I-I think so... maybe. Are you alright? Are you hurt at all?”

“Uh, no, I ran away before any monsters could get me. Anyway, where are you headed?”

Henry shrugs. Still dazed.

“I’m... not so sure myself...” remembering something, his gaze hardens. “Did you see a tall, blonde man anywhere? Pale eyes, blue trench coat...?” He swears, if that man threatened you...

“Er, yes, but I don’t think he noticed me. I was going to approach him to see if he needed help, but he had a gun in his hand, and I don’t want to sneak up on someone so readily armed... anyway, he gave me bad vibes. Luckily he had his back toward me, so he didn’t spot me. Do you know him?” You wrap your arms around yourself.

“He’s dangerous. We need to avoid him.” He says firmly. “I don’t know what’s going on around here but I know he must have something to do with it. Anyway... stay close to me.” Without even realizing it, he grabs your hand and gently pulls you along. Despite his calm demeanor, his mind is racing.

You’re here... actually here... is this real? Are you real?

He glances at you through his peripheral. You’re paying no mind to him, almost skipping along with your hand in his. Seeing you so tangibly... it’s eerie. Very eerie. He’s surprised that he’s managing to keep his cool. You said the last thing you remembered was getting ready for school... and he remembers, with painful detail, the call he received from his mother telling him of what had happened to you that fateful autumn day. Six years ago...

“Are you okay?” Your soft voice calls out to him. He turns to you, a pensive gaze on his otherwise expressionless face.

“I’m... trying to come to terms with the situation... are you sure you don’t remember anything else before coming here? Not even...” he swallows. “not even after... getting ready for your classes?”

“Not a thing. Though I remember it being a lot colder than usual! Man, I hate Autumn...”

Me too... Henry thinks solemnly.

He slows his pace down little by little.

What’s going to happen to you when this is all over...? Are you going to disappear again? Are you actually alive? No... that couldn’t be. It was an open casket funeral. You had looked beautiful even in death, eyes shut and rosy cheeks, even a faint smile upon your lips. ...What a grim thought. He swore you were only sleeping. But that natural flush was just a trick made by the desairologist who took care of your corpse. He knows your body must have been pretty banged up to have killed you. How they managed to make you look good as new was beyond him. And he remembers reaching out to hold your hands in his, only feeling cold, dead flesh in his palms...

“You look upset. I’m sorry this is all happening. And that we had to meet like this.” Henry shakes his head clear when he hears you. Then, an idea forms in his head. If your spirit is here, real, then surely you can recall your past. Maybe?

“(Y/n)... do you remember... when you’d always come to my house when we were kids?”

“Yeah, of course I do! I could never forget that. And your mom would always make us pink lemonade and bring us snacks. Sometimes she’d bring us candy if we got good grades in school, I know how you liked fruit ones the best... apple, if I remember right.”

An ache grows within his heart. So you do remember...

“And you remember sharing classes together growing up...?”

“Uh... yes? 5th and 11th grade were the best years, you and I agreed...”

Jesus...

“That’s... that’s right...”

Dear Lord... please don’t let this be a trick...

He squeezes your hand within his, and feeling you return the gesture, he has to close his eyes to prevent tears from pooling within them. It’s been six years since you died. So long ago. Young and carefree and in the middle of college, studying for your degree...

“How’s Margaret?”

“...huh?”

You give him a strange look.

“Your girlfriend? Marge? Just last Wednesday we were on the phone... and, Henry...” you trail off, giving him a cheeky glance. “She was talking to me about wedding dresses... oops! Don’t tell her I said that. When are you proposing to her, huh?”

“Stop.” He grimaces. 

You grow silent, eyes slightly wide with surprise.

“I’m... sorry. You two have been doing so well the past couple years. I just...”

“We broke up....”

“Really?! When? Oh goodness, did she cheat on you? I’ll kick her ass, I promise!”

She did cheat on him, but that’s not the point...

With a deep sigh, Henry checks his map.

Let’s see... not there or there... there’s a cluster of monsters there he narrowly avoided earlier... they’re most likely hanging around... it’s probably better to go into rooms he’s already cleared... to make sure you’ll be safe for as long as possible. But he’s running out of time. Who knows how much longer he has to stop Walter from fulfilling those so-called “sacrifices.” That psycho... innocent people will die if he’s not hasty.

But you? You’re already dead. As harsh as that is, to think such a thing, it’s the truth, and he firmly knows it. He can save other people. He just has to be quick, calculating.

He has no choice. But he simply can’t bear being away from you again.

He turns to you abruptly, pausing when he sees a solemn expression upon your gentle features. His heart sinks. He should have been more soft with you. Damn it.

“I’m sorry. For being so curt earlier.” He says, frowning in sadness.

“Oh, you’re okay. I brought up a touchy subject. My fault...”

“Not at all. It’s just...” he swallows, “painful to talk about...”

Huh. So you guess sometime after your call with his now ex, they must have broken up. Poor guy. Never had any running luck with women in the past.

He flinches when he feels your hand rest on his shoulder. And when he turns to look into your eyes, he has to hold himself back from tearing his gaze away from yours.

“Well no matter what, I’m here for you. Okay? We’ll make it out of here. Together. I promise!”

Except you’re probably not going to make it.

“...Okay, (y/n). I’ll protect you. As much as I can.”

“Nah, I’ll be the one to protect YOU.” You pinch his cheek like you always used to, growing up. The nostalgia makes Henry’s stomach churn. “Now lead the way, won’t you?”

All he can do is nod.

——

It’s taken a couple of hours, but you two have made significant progress. Henry’s solemn attitude has definitely seemed to lighten up the more jokes you crack with him. It’s so nice to see him after a handful of months. Though he looks... older than you remember. He must have gone through a lot of stress. Like. A lot of stress. Not that he’s old-looking, or bad-looking! He’s still really cute. Just. Different. He looks like he hasn’t gotten sleep in years. And he’s definitely a lot quieter than he used to be.

Did Margaret’s cheating cause him this way? That conniving bitch...

“So...” you trail off when he’s reading his map. He looks up at you with a slight smile. “Um, you’re still doing your photography gig, right? The one at that fashion line?”

“... not anymore.”

Really?

“But... Marge— I mean. The last call we had, she told me you were making good progress with it...”

“I had to quit...” because he was too depressed to show up anymore.

Oh. Within that week, too? Weird.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. Do you have anything else going on for you? Aside from being lost in... what did we say this place was? Purgatory?”

“No. Like I mentioned earlier, I’ve only been stuck in my apartment... speaking of, I really need to get back... we’re carrying a lot.”

“You can leave?”

Henry sighs, his back to you. Of course, the holes in the walls have been present here and there. But he refused to go back into his apartment. What if he goes through it, and then comes back to find you gone? He can’t risk that. But there’s just too much you’re both carrying. And time is ticking. With you especially.

“...Those giant holes in the walls. They can lead back to my apartment....”

You stare blankly.

“Then why haven’t you gone in already? Are you scared to get lost?”

You watch him in silence. Jeez. He’s been really different. Of course, you can understand his exhaustion. Nightmare after nightmare, and being trapped in your own home for almost a week, finding yourself in hell, narrowly avoiding flesh-eating monsters and a rampant killer hellbent on sacrificing people to some delusional ritual. Yeah. That’s draining. Even so... there’s just something about him that’s different. He’s a lot quieter than he used to be. You’re starting to suspect this has something to do with something bigger than his ex. Something else. But you just don’t know what. He won’t tell you. But it seems familiar, as if deep down you know. You should wait to ask until later.

“I’m sorry, Henry.” You say sharply. “Let’s just go.”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

You walk together silently, not bothering to steal glances at him, in fear of finding an irritated expression on his face. What else can you say? The lighthearted mood crashed the moment you asked him about those holes. Damn. Of course you had to run your mouth.

When you both find one of the holes, he stops before it. His eyes shift to you, then back to the hole, and once more they land on you, but staying.

“(Y/n)...” he says quietly. He grabs your hand, and suddenly. He’s staring into your eyes with such an intense look, it stuns you silent. The raw emotion swirling in his eyes... something is off. “(Y/n), you’re my best friend. I miss you all the time. If we... get separated climbing through here... then I promise I’ll see you again. I promise...”

There’s a heavy weight in your heart. Finally, you don’t think you can take any more of this.

“Henry, what are you saying?” You almost shout. He reels back in shock, jerking his hand out of yours. “You’ve been acting so weird since we met up. I know you must be under a lot of stress, but please! Just tell me what’s wrong? None of this makes any sense. I visited you just a month ago, why are you talking as if we haven’t seen each other in years? Just tell me!”

He looks away with a pained expression, and for a moment, you feel guilt for raising your voice at gentle, quiet Henry who never did anything to hurt anyone.

“I can’t...” his voice is barely audible.

“Why?”

“It’s... not the right time.”

You cross your arms impatiently.

“Fine! Fine, Henry. I believe you. Just... don’t leave me, Henry. I’m scared... I don’t want you to get hurt. We have to stick together. I’m sorry...”

He says nothing for a moment, but then he’s calmly approaching you before enveloping you into his arms, pulling you into his chest as he hugs you deeply. When you melt into him, wrapping your arms around him, he lays his chin on your head, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay. We’ll get out of this. Together.”

“Promise?”

He winces.

“Yes... I promise...”

With that, you both linger a few moments. He reluctantly pulls away and your warmth is no longer caressing him, still, your very presence is enough to soothe him. It seems like you’re real. You have to be. Remembering all these things... besides, if all this outlandish stuff is happening, then your being here must be real.

Grabbing your hand again, a smile graces his features when you look into his eyes. Then, he’s pulling you along with him as he gets into the hole, with you right behind him.

—

As soon as Henry is back in his apartment, he whips around to search for you, heart racing in fear. You’re standing right there, grimacing probably at the state of his bathroom.

Thank god. Thank god... it feels as though a heavy weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

“Please tell me this didn’t look this bad before the other world starting appearing.” You say, cringing at the state of the bathroom.

“No” he chuckles. “My apartment got grimier by the day. But cleaning hasn’t been my top priority since this all started.” Henry opens the bathroom door, gesturing for you to leave first. When you step out into the main hallway, you don’t wait for him to let you roam around as you make your way into the living room. And what you see to your left makes you double take.

“Holy shit...”

Henry comes up beside you.

“I just woke up and they were there...”

“What in the goddamn...” you approach the front door, pulling at the overbearing amount chains. Futile, of course. That’s downright baffling. “‘Don’t go out - Walter.’ That blonde man...” you look through the peephole and see the bloody handprints on the wall straight ahead. Then, someone walks by. An older man with white hair. You’re tempted to bang on the door and yell for help, but you know that’d be useless. Henry has already tried that.

While Henry deposits the various items you have both grabbed into the chest, his eyes keep drifting to you. Checking to make sure you’re still here. And you are.

Look back. You’re here. Glance away. Look back. You’re here. Glance away.

Mischievously, you’re walking around his apartment. It’s small, but homey. And of course, the walls look horrifyingly gross. But aside from that, everything looks normal. He’s got his TV, his bookcase, furniture... there are some pretty candles lit... and, oh, a picture of you and him when you both graduated from high school?

Wow, that’s so sweet. That was only 3 years ago... time flies by, doesn’t it?

“Aw, Henry...”

He looks over to see you holding the framed photo of you and him together. Your smile is so lovey... it reminds him of days with you, happy and carefree. And for a moment, he forgets all about everything else except you.

“This day was so nice... we finally got to leave school and start our lives as adults. After graduation, your parents took us out to get pizza at our favorite pizza joint, then we went to the lake later to swim. I remember staying out there late into the night. That was so fun...”

“I... I miss it...” he trails off.

You set the photo down and continue your looking around.

There’s books. A radio...

and then by the wall, under the clock—

You stop short. No way...

“Wait... what?”

Henry stops. He looks back at you to find you stepping closer to the wall where the calendar hangs. On year 2004.

Oh no...

Jumping up to his feet, he freezes.

“Henry,” a small laugh rings though the air. “Your calendar is on the wrong year! How the hell did you get a calendar dated six years into the future?” You turn back at him with a lopsided grin, but when you see his pale expression, the grin quickly drops. Your gaze hardens. “Why... are you looking at me like that... and it’s not Spring, you know...”

Neither of you say anything for a moment, and in Henry’s mind, he’s frantically searching for what to say. No, no, no, this isn’t right...

“(Y/n)... I can remember what happened before I woke up with everything this way. Before the locks appeared...” He says, voice trailing off.

“Yeah. So?” What is going on? What’s wrong? Your heart is starting to race. “Henry, please... what happened?”

“But you can’t. You can’t remember anything right before you woke up here.”

“Henry...” Your eyes are watering, now, and hysteria is quickly taking over as your stress intensifies. What the fuck is going on?! “Stop messing with me!” You shout. Still, he is unwavering. And yet... and yet, his eyes become glossy, such a thing reflecting on you, too.

“It’s 1998, Henry. I mean, I know I shouldn’t get so worked up, but—“

“It was 1998 six years ago, (y/n).”

Henry’s tone is grim. Then, this means?

“So... I was in a coma...”

Henry falters.

Can he say it? Can he disclose the truth? Is it going to be alright? He can’t let you go. Not again. Not after all these years of wishing you were back. But there’s no way he can suffer through it. It’s selfish, yes... dragging this time out with you while people are probably dying, while Walter gets closer and closer to his end goal. But what are those people to him, anyway?

Do they even matter? Compared to you, are they... even important to him?

But, a dead woman can’t die again. Right? Maybe? But there’s no way. He can’t risk it. But people’s lives are at stake, people who are actually living, breathing—

Do the right thing...

When his bottom lip quivers, your heart breaks the moment he covers his face to stifle the small sobs coming from him. You’re not sure what to do. It’s been so long since you’ve seen anyone cry, and Henry no less, but your body knows how to react when you come toward him, hugging him close to you while sobs wrack through his body. Still, your confusion is present despite the desire to push it aside to focus on and assess Henry’s distress.

“Please tell me...” you whisper. Your heart is shattered when you see he’s still covering his face, hiding his pain away from you. “Please look at me...”

He inhales a shaky breath before pulling his hands away. He then grips your shoulders, eyes red and leaky with tears that fall down his face in small streams.

“You’re already dead…” he whimpers.

Your blood runs cold.

“You died. Six years ago, (y/n). A car crash. You- you were on your way to the university, and, and... there was an accident on the freeway...”

What?!

“And then my mother called, just a day later... there was a period that you were alive, barely, in the hospital, but... the critical condition you were in... you didn’t make it. I found it out...” Henry blinks away the tears burning his eyes. “and it felt like I lost everything that day...”

His expression screams devastation. Heartbreak. Anguish. 

Before you can even get a word in, to soothe your best friend, he’s pulling you into him, burying his face into your neck where wetness makes itself known. And suddenly, you’re crying too. But is it even possible? Life after death.

It really is purgatory.

“I’m,” you swallow thickly, “I’m sorry I left you, Henry. I’m so sorry...” It’s all you can say before your voice wavers, and you’re crying too.

“Six years actually passed? But... I can’t— why? How? I don’t remember anything...”

“I know... I know.” His hand pets your hair soothingly. “But you’re alive now, aren’t you? I missed you so much...” He whispers, and it’s so faint that even he’s not sure he said it.

“I... I don’t know. Am I the same as... as ‘them’?”

“Never.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “I’d never let you become that.”

“Henry... I’m scared... how are we going to make it out of here? And those people, we have to save them—!”

He hushes you, then. Peering at the candles, it seems like they haven’t gone down at all.

Then, maybe...?

“You’ll stay with me, won’t you?” He asks.

You don’t say anything. You nod, nevertheless. Uncertainty looms through his body.

“—have to save them...” you say, but those words fall on uncaring ears as Henry holds his dearest friend against him, thinking how on earth he’s going to get you out of this. Alive. With him.

“I’ll find a way.” He says firmly, staring into the flickering flame of a holy candle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes the title is based off the Higurashi song oop— totally not the embodiment of what Henry was thinking all those years hahhaekcnksjs


End file.
